Witch Boots on the Ground Page 6

  “It’s a deal,” Winnie said brightly. “Now why don’t you tell us why you attacked poor Ms. Umberwing?”

  “Poor Ms. Umberwing?” Nausika spat, “That old bird is a hussy and a homewrecker, did you know that? Have you ever been in love, girl? Do you know what it’s like to watch another woman steal your man, your heart? The person and life you’ve sacrificed everything for?”

  Winnie stepped back, stunned. “I...um...” she stammered.

  I stepped in. “So Ms. Umberwing was running around with your man?” I said, “That’s pretty low of her.”

  Nausika snorted.

  “In fact,” I continued, “from the sound of it, Ms. Umberwing was juggling quite a few men at once. Her boyfriend, Horace Bugglebee, was probably none the wiser, poor guy. I’m sure you heard about the murder...”

  “HER boyfriend?!” Nausika shrieked, all fear of being overheard suddenly evaporating, “He was mine. Mine until he decided that wanton feather duster was worth more than the woman he was planning to marry.”

  “Oh,” Winnie said softly, “We didn’t realize that you...”

  “That I was what?” Nausika said. “The jilted party? When he stood me up that night I thought he had run off to the harpy again. I waited for hours and he never showed, thinking he was out somewhere with her. I was actually glad when the police told me it was because he was being torn to bits. Got what he deserved for tearing out my heart, as far as I’m concerned.”

  Winnie and I stood silent, stunned. Nausika crossed her arms defiantly.

  “Here’s my statement for your little story,” she hissed. “I confronted Ms. Umberwing to show her the damage she had done. I wanted her to meet the victim of her misdeeds. People like her often escape justice...it was important to me that her selfishness be brought to light. I don’t regret it.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “THAT LADY HAS ISSUES,” Alan cackled after we relayed the story of our confrontation with Nausika to him at the coffee shop. Winnie and I nodded simultaneously.

  “So, what did you find out?” I asked. Alan puffed up and shook his feathered head.

  “Nothing new, really,” he said, sounding defeated. “Just the same stuff as last time. They’re just as interested as we are in finding out who did it. And who this newcomer is. Oh, and they’re furious about Gemia.”

  “What about Gemia?” Winnie asked.

  “While we were interrogating her, she implied that they’d hired her to rough Bugglebee up over his debts.” I said.

  “Well, obviously.” Winnie huffed.

  “Yes, everyone knows when the mafia is involved,” Alan quipped. “But you’re not supposed to say it.”

  Whoever says owls are the wisest of birds? I gave the top of his head an affectionate scratch. I noticed that Winnie kept looking around nervously.

  “What’s got you bothered?” I asked her after the third time I caught her watching the door. She slumped back into her seat and sighed.

  “I was kind of hoping Barry would be in tonight.”

  Me too, I thought. It would be nice to see our favorite barista and reassure him that we were still on his side. It’s always nice to know that someone’s looking out for you.

  “Well he did just post bail,” I said, reaching across the table to touch her hand, “He’s probably exhausted and just wanted to stay home. Can you blame him? A lot of people think he’s a murderer.”

  Winnie nodded miserably.

  “Speaking of exhausted,” Alan said, “I am utterly knackered. Can we call it a night?”

  We did. I made sure Winnie got home safe and then trudged up the stairs to my apartment above the office. Alan had fallen asleep on my shoulder long before we made it inside.

  “Goodnight, buddy,” I said, lifting him gently and placing him on his sleeping perch.

  “Goodnight, Vana.” he muttered sleepily, face buried beneath one wing.

  My dreams that night were violent and fevered, just as they had been the night after the murder. I tossed and turned, unable to sleep for most of the night. Morning came suddenly, though, and the sun seemed to rise as soon as I was able to drift off.

  “Rough night?” Alan said, gliding across the room to perch on my knee. I nodded.

  “You know what would take your mind off it?” he said, “Coffee!”

  I laughed. “Coffee sounds great.”

  I had just finished getting dressed and was pouring out Alan and I’s second round of coffee when the phone rang. I picked it up.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Vana.” It was Henry’s voice, low and solemn.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “It’s Gemia,” he said slowly. “She was found dead early this morning. Murdered.”

  My breath caught in my throat. Another murder?

  “We brought Barry back in,” Henry continued. “He has an alibi this time, but...”

  “But what?” I demanded.

  “The injuries are consistent with Mr. Bugglebee’s. Whoever killed him definitely killed her. At this point, we have no choice but to formally charge Barry.”

  It all made sense. I hated how much it made sense. But Henry was right. Barry had means and motive...and he was out on bail last night. Whatever way you looked at it, Barry didn’t come out looking good.

  Still, I wasn’t about to believe that the Barry I knew could commit such atrocities.

  “You’re still going to follow up on the other leads though, right?” I asked.

  Henry was silent for a moment. “There are not many other leads, Vana. I’m sorry. We’ve got officers assigned to investigate the fairy mafia already and we’ll interview the siren today, just like I said, but that’s it.”

  Nausika. I’d almost forgotten.

  “Yeah, about that,” I said, trying not to sound guilty. “I think Winnie and I should sit that one out. We kind of ran into Nausika last night and I don’t think she’d be too happy to see us again.”

  “Are you sure?” Henry asked. “I was actually hoping to have some witch backup for that. In case she tries any siren tricks, you know?”

  She’s certainly not above it, I thought.

  “That’s smart,” I said. “We’ll be there. But I think we should stay in the observation room.”

  “Fair enough,” Henry agreed. “Can you be here in an hour?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  WINNIE AND I WATCHED from behind the glass as Henry opened the door for Nausika. The siren looked remarkably different today. Her hair had been dried somehow and brushed into smooth, glossy waves that flowed over her shoulders. She wore a somber black dress and her large, shining eyes were rimmed with puffy red skin.

  “She’s been crying,” Winnie said softly.

  “Thank you for agreeing to speak with us,” Henry began gently. “I understand that this is a difficult time for you. Please, take a seat.”

  “Thank you,” said Nausika, voice breaking.

  “Now I know you’ve already been interviewed by some of our officers,” Henry continued, “but I just had a few more questions that I hope you can answer for me.”

  Nausika nodded.

  “There’s no good way to say this,” Henry said cautiously, “So I hope you’ll forgive my directness...were you aware that your boyfriend had a mistress?”

  Nausika buried her face in her webbed hands and broke into sobs.

  “I knew,” she sputtered, “but I k-k-kept hoping he’d c-c-come to his s-s-senses and break it off. We were in l-l-love...” Her whole body shook with her cries.

  Henry looked supremely uncomfortable. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, which Nausika accepted gratefully.

  “Eventually,” she said, dabbing her eyes, “it became too much for me. I...forgot myself for a bit and blamed his mistress. I even confronted her at work, if you can believe that!” She laughed weakly, “So humiliating...”

  “We spoke with Ms. Umberwing,” Henry said, “And she’s decided not to press charges.”


  Relief brightened Nausika’s face. “That’s...too kind of her. Especially after the things I said. In front of her students, even.” She shuddered visibly, looking sheepish.

  “Ooh, what did she say?” Alan rasped. I shushed him.

  “Thank you for your honesty, ma’am,” Henry said. “If you could just answer a couple more questions for me, I’ll let you be on your way. According to your previous interview, you were performing the night of the murder, is that right?”

  “Yes,” said Nausika, managing a weak smile. “At the Calliope. We play almost every night.”

  “Unfortunately,” Henry continued, “we haven’t nailed down the exact time of the attack. If you wouldn’t mind telling me where you were before and after the show...”

  “Of course,” Nausika nodded, “Before...hmm...I was rehearsing and getting ready backstage.”

  “Was anyone present who can confirm this?”

  “Yes, my band mates.”

  “Very good,” Henry made a quick note. “Can I get their names and contact information from you?”

  “I think I’d like to go see them play,” Alan mused as Henry jotted down the band mates’ information.

  “No, you don’t.” Winnie and I said in unison.

  Henry flipped a page in his notebook and smiled at Nausika. “And after the show?”

  Nausika frowned, looking thoughtful.

  “I was pretty tired that night so I didn’t join the band for drinks. I decided to grab a quick bite at the cafe and then just headed home.”

  “That’s it,” I breathed, turning to Winnie. “There it is!”

  “There what is?” she asked, frowning. I leaned forward and rapped on the glass. Nausika jumped, startled, and Henry put out a hand to reassure her.

  “My apologies,” he said. “My colleagues probably need me to sign something. I’ll be right back.”

  Henry got up, left the interrogation room, and appeared soon after in the doorway of the observation room.

  “What’s up?” he asked, wide-eyed, closing the door behind him, “Is she using magic?”

  “Nope, just plain, old-fashioned deception.” I answered. “She said she just decided to grab a quick dinner at the cafe, right? When we spoke to her, she claims that Bugglebee stood her up that night.”

  “Oh!” Winnie cried, catching up. “That’s right! She claims she waited for hours for him.”

  “Hmm,” Henry frowned. “That’s a far cry away from going out for a quick bite on a whim, isn’t it?”

  I grinned. “Yes, yes it is.”

  “What do you think,” said Winnie excitedly. “Should we follow up with the cafe?”

  “Not yet,” Henry said. “I’d like to see where she goes with this first.”

  He left and stepped back into the interrogation room.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said. “Let’s see...so you left the Calliope after the show and then what again?”

  “I was tired, so I grabbed something to eat at the cafe and went home.”

  “That’s right,” Henry took a note. “What’s this cafe?”

  “Starry Night Cafe,” Nausika smiled. “It’s my favorite.”

  “I think I’ve heard of it, actually,” Henry looked thoughtful. “How’s the service there?”

  “Very good.”

  “Yeah? My lunch breaks are pretty short, so I’m always looking for places where I can get a good meal fast. They pretty quick about it?”

  “Definitely,” Nausika said. “They’re like a well-oiled machine there. You have got to try the lemonade, by the way.”

  Henry chuckled. “Will do! So how long would you say you waited for your dinner that night?”

  That gave Nausika pause. She frowned.

  “I couldn’t say exactly...”

  “Try, please.”

  “Well. Probably ten, maybe fifteen minutes.”

  “That is good service!” Henry tilted his head. “You were tired, though, so you just ate and left?”

  Nausika nodded, her lips now a tight line in her pale face.

  “And the staff of the Starry Night Cafe can confirm that you were there that night?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “And they can confirm that you were there for, say, about fifteen minutes plus the time it took for you to eat, right?”

  Nausika crossed her arms and leaned forward, stone-faced.

  “It sounds like you already know the answer, Detective Henry.”

  Winnie gasped. My heart started thrumming in my ears. This was it.

  “What do you want me to say,” she said. “Admit that I killed him? I did, in a sense. It was my right, as the wronged party. I told that...that thing to put an end to Horace’s miserable, lecherous life. It even did the job for free. Almost like it wanted to taste blood. Like it was hungry. Kind of worked out for everyone, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Now,” she continued, “how did you figure it out?” Her voice was even and her face betrayed no emotion.

  “Well, they don’t hand out these badges to just anybody,” Henry said nonchalantly, standing up, “Now I suppose it’s time to place you under arrest.”

  Nausika did not move. She didn’t even blink.

  “I said,” she began, and I realized that her voice had suddenly taken on an ethereal quality that made my skin prickle, “How did you figure it out?”

  Oh, shoot.

  Henry’s eyes glazed over and he wobbled slightly where he stood.

  “Vana told me.” he said in a flat, cold voice.

  Nausika nodded. “That’s very good, Detective Henry. Now who is this Vana and where can I find them?”

  I was already starting a muffle spell when Henry opened his mouth to respond. I cast it and he choked on the words, wincing with the pain of release from the siren’s magic.

  Nausika stood abruptly. “Listen to me,” she intoned, “listen to my voice.”

  The muffle spell held strong. Winnie made to move for the door, but I caught her arm.

  “It’s better if she doesn’t know we’re here,” I said. “That way she can’t charm us, too.”

  At least I hoped that was the way it worked. Winnie nodded and sent off a spell of her own.

  Nausika began to sing—a haunting, gorgeous tune that threatened to overcome me almost immediately. But then Winnie’s spell hit.

  The siren’s song faltered and broke. Nausika looked around wildly, as if trying to find some invisible insect that had bitten her.

  “Maybe if Barry was here he could catch it for you,” Winnie growled at the glass.

  Henry took the opportunity presented by the siren’s distraction to restrain her. She screamed and sang, but it was no use. He couldn’t hear a thing.

  Once he had her in handcuffs, he reclaimed the handkerchief he’d given her and used it as a makeshift gag. He gestured to the glass and pointed at his ears.

  Oh, right. I removed the muffle spell and Henry gave me the thumbs up.

  “It’s not a perfect confession,” he said, “but it’s enough to merit some serious investigation. And the fact that you jumped straight to assaulting a police officer...” He made a disapproving sound and shook his head. Nausika snarled around the gag.

  “Hey Winnie,” he said, looking at the glass and grinning, “Barry’s your problem now.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  ONCE SHE REALIZED THERE was no getting out of this, the siren sang like a canary. She was proud of her work and seemed almost eager to share every last detail. She had heard a rumor going around about our elusive newcomer one night after a show. A masked man had given her instructions for requesting its services. All she had to do, she explained gleefully, was spill a drop of blood under her pillow and whisper these words before she went to sleep:

  The prey has been chosen. The hunt has begun.

  The creature appeared in her room that night, a tall, shadowy figure in the corner of her room. It neither moved nor spoke, just stared at her from the darkness with two round, white eyes
. She gave it instructions and it lingered for a few hours, watching her, and vanished at the break of dawn. Mr. Bugglebee met his gruesome end just days later.

  I didn’t like any of it, not one bit. This creature, whatever it was, was still out there. And with Gemia’s killing it looked like it was now on the fairy mafia’s payroll, cleaning up their loose ends. That was bad news for pretty much all of Nikatomia. I feared that, with these recent murders and the arrival of this creature, my homeland was about to become a very different place.

  I pushed these thoughts aside for the time, allowing myself to enjoy a few days of peace and quiet in the company of friends. Barry and Winnie had become insufferable since his release. They were constantly whispering, giggling, and being otherwise annoyingly cute when they thought I wasn’t looking. From what I could gather from their conversations, Barry was going to join her on vacation to the mirror pools. I was happy for them—Winnie could use someone like Barry to keep her down to earth.

  I was packing for my own vacation when Alan perched on my open suitcase and glared at me reproachfully.

  “Don’t forget to take more socks than you think you’ll need,” he said. “The normal realm has a way of making socks disappear.”

  “I’ve already packed plenty of socks,” I assured him. “Now go stand somewhere else, I need to fit your sleeping perch in there.”

  Alan hopped off. “Why are you taking my sleeping perch?” he asked. “I sleep there, you know.”

  “I know,” I said. “That’s why we’ll need it.”

  He started bobbing excitedly. “Does that mean you’ve changed your mind?” he cawed.

  I patted his beak. “It does. I’m sorry I even considered leaving you behind. It’s just...my grandparents, they...”

  “—I won’t say a word, not one!” he cried, flapping wildly. “I’ll be a normal raven, all caws and squawks and nothing interesting to say at all!”

  “It’s okay,” I laughed, “We’ll figure it out as we go.”

  We met up with Winnie and Barry at the coffee shop that afternoon. We all wanted to get together and say goodbye one last time before vacation. Barry was on duty, but he managed to snag some downtime during a slow period.